Delusions of Grandeur
by Echo Albarn
Summary: This is the kind of fic you get when you're strung out from a sugar high...Lack of Editing is INTENTIONAL!!!
1. No Sleep & Lots of Sugar

The sun came up as usual, and as it entered the bedroom window, it   
first illuminated a black synthesizer, a bit scratched up, with two   
stompboxes duct-taped across the top panel. It then perused a television   
and a stack of anime tapes. Reaching the floor, it lightened the area   
around several video gaming systems before reaching the foot of the bed.  
The sun seemed to pause over the bed, warming the face of the   
sleeping teenager within. This in itself is a rather boring and bland   
way to open our story, but what would happen afterwards is what would  
make this interesting.  
  
NOTHING happened.  
  
The sun shone some more, and still the teenager did not move. His   
breathing was deep and regular, and the trained eye would pick out that  
his eyes were twitching slightly as he experienced REM sleep, as he had  
been for most of the night.  
  
And still, NOTHING happened.  
  
The boy's mother entered the room, complaining about the mild   
smell that was starting to creep into the other rooms, when she found   
that he wouldn't wake up. Of course, she thought he was kidding around,  
but after she pried his eyelids open and dumped cold water on his head  
(not simultaneously), she started to get concerned  
  
because NOTHING was happening.  
  
If she knew however, that the dreamrealms really and truly   
existed, then she might not be as worried. However, this is not her   
story. If it was,  
  
then NOTHING would happen. And that would be BORING.  
  
And so, we begin:  
  
====================  
  
Mirror in the Dark Productions presents:  
  
DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR  
  
(a work of Pokemon non-fan-fiction by Echo Albarn)  
  
==========  
  
Flashing images appeared before the closed eyes of one Joshua   
Ransom. Nonetheless, he made sense of these images, and to his own mind,  
formed a coherent reality. That reality suddenly cued up this image:  
  
Darkness. The doors would soon be opening. He could already hear  
the dull roar that was the celebratory cry of thousands of Obsessovia   
Pokefanicus, the standard Pokemon Arena fan. The doors burst open, and   
sunlight flooded in, blinding him for a moment. He could hear the   
electric guitar that began his entrance music. Josh touched the   
pokeballs at his waist for reassurance, waiting just before the music   
launched into the main riff of "Today" to make his appearance on the   
field of combat. As the Smashing Pumpkins tune continued, Ransom made   
his way to the center of the recatngular ring to shake hands with his   
opponent, a little kid with black hair and a red and white baseball cap.   
The referee announced into the loudspeaker: "Ketchum: zero, Ransom:   
zero. Begin match."  
  
The kid pulled out a pokeball, twisted his baseball cap backwards   
and prepared for a fight. "Bulbasaur! I choose you!" he yelled in a pre-  
pubescent voice. Ketchum then chucked the ball towards the center of the   
arena, whereupon a Bulbasaur appeared in a flalsh of white light.  
  
"Bul...Bulbasaur." was its only comment.  
  
Josh fingered the balls at his waist, thinking for a moment about   
which pokemon to choose. In one fluid movement, he spun, came up with a  
pokeball in his left handm and tossed it straight up into the air. The   
ball was lsot to sight in the sun when Josh called out, "Fearow! Dive   
bomb that sucker!"  
  
Out of nowhere, it seemed, a large Fearow plummeted towards the   
ground at an incredible speed, aiming directly for the Bulbasaur.  
  
Ash, being a not-shabby trainer, was able to react in time.  
  
"Bulbasaur, Vine whip!"  
  
However, his poor choice in tactic would be the highlight of   
blooper reels for years to come. The Bulbasaur whipped at the Fearow,   
catching it around the neck. And pulling it in.  
  
The imapct of bird and amphibianplantthing on wet grass was not a   
sound for the fainthearted to hear. It was rather like 'toggg', with   
none of the hollow echoing effect. The two pokemon lay on the ground,   
both dazed. In a few seconds, however, Fearow stumbled to it's feet with   
a dizzy "row?". Josh jumped into the air, fist raised in triumph.  
  
"Ketchum: zero, Ransom: one."  
  
"Bulbasaur, return! You're gonna pay for this one, mster!"  
  
Josh smiled. "Let's go."  
  
Josh's smile immediately faded when Ash called up his Squirtle.  
  
"Fear?"  
  
"Squirt!"  
  
"Hoo-boy."  
  
Fearow took to the air again, possibly to repeat what had happened   
in the previous match, but it was immediately floored by a deftly aimed  
water cannon.  
  
"Fearow, return. There's nothing more you can do."  
  
The empty pokeball was now full, as Josh pulled out another of   
his favorites.  
  
"Ketchum: one, Ransom: one."  
  
"Jigglypuff! Knock his ass out!"  
  
Swiftly, He placed very large headphones on his head, cranked up   
"Globe Alone", and threw the pokeball. Jigglypuff popped out, took one   
look at all the people in the stands, and...  
  
...got stage fright, leaving it wide open to be clocked in the   
head by a high-velocity stream of water.  
  
"Ketchum: two, Ransom: one."  
  
Ransom, sighing, pulled the headphones off and wiggled his fingers  
in his ears for a moment, trying to regain some of his hearing. He then  
recalled Jigglypuff and cleared his throat.  
  
There was dead silence in the arena for a moment, then, rearing   
back like Hideo Nomo, Josh Ransom pitched the pokeball.  
  
"HITMONCHAN," he yelled, "LLLLLLLEET'S GET READY TO   
RUMBLLLLLLLE!!!!"  
  
Michael Buffer, sitting in the stands, threw a bag of popcorn at   
him.  
  
Undeterred, Josh and Ash squared up for the next round.  
  
The Hitmonchan, affectionately called "Jackie", shuffled out to   
the center of the field, bobbing and weaving the whole way.  
  
Squirtle was no more than a punching bag before Jackie.  
  
And of course it came down to the deicding battle.  
  
Once more the shock of being in the championship match descended   
upon Josh Ransom. He began to quiver a bit, and Jackie noticed.  
  
"Chan?" it asked.  
  
Josh made an ultra-cool motion with his hand, just to show how   
solid he was at that moment.  
  
"Chan!" was its response as it realized that everything was   
a-okay.  
  
Ash, rather peeved by now, glared at his opponent and briefly   
looked to the stands, searching for the moral support of his friends.  
  
They cheered and yelled his name, buoying his morale for a few   
crucial moments.  
  
As if it were an actual anime film, the dream went into   
splitscreen for a moment. One pair of Japanese eyes, and one pair   
American, glaring at each other. For effect, a tumbleweed rolled across  
the field. Then Ash made his move. Instead of pulling out a pokeball, he   
merely pointed down the length of the field. With all the bluster a ten-  
year-old can muster, he yelled, "PIKACHU! I CHOOSE YOU!"  
  
Josh smirked at his opponent, saying, "All right, whelp. It's on."  
  
The pikachu, a rather intelligent member of the species (that's   
not saying much, however), charged under the influence of it's Agility  
attack.  
  
Josh began to call out specialty attacks that he had created.  
  
"Hitmonchan, Ali, now!"  
  
Jackie began to bob and weave crazily, occasionally tossing a   
punch or two, into the snout of the chraging rodent, before leeting   
loose with a flurry of punches.  
  
"Thundershock!"  
  
"Rubber Glove!"  
  
This attack had Hitmonchan inflate his boxing gloves to a   
huge size, whereupon they'd block any incoming electric blast, again   
trumping Pikachu.  
  
The picachu looked rather tired out by this time, and it was   
wobbling about, as it attempted to pull off a comeback victory.  
  
Ransom would have none of that.   
  
"Jackie, Hasek him!"  
  
Jackie complied, flopping bodily onto the pikachu and flailing   
about at an invisible puck. When he was done, Pikachu was in rough   
shape.  
  
THe referee stood up. "The match goes to..."  
  
"US!"  
  
The crowd gasped. Standing at the top of the scoreboard,   
dramatically illuminated by the spotilights in the arena, it's none   
other than Team Rocket.  
  
Jesse and James, followed by a parachuting Meowth jump down to   
the turf. They clear their throats, and begin their entrance.  
  
"To protec-SHHHBOOOOOOOOOM!  
  
Luckily, Josh had pulled out an anti-personnel rocket launcher   
from some unknnown location and had just nuked Team Rocker. The crowd   
cheered, and the Rocket murder charges were dropped.   
  
Josh was the champion, my Friends.  
  
===END===  
  
  
===AUTHOR NOTES===  
  
I wrote this because I could. There's just a time in every   
writer's life where you want to write something and not give a damn   
about spelling, grammar, or plot. The times you want to be a self-  
insertion, and screw around with the worlds. The times you want to   
insert useless cameos and blatant plugs. And most definetely, the times   
you want to blow up some member of the cast just on principle. This is   
one of those times. None of my other fics are like this, nor will they   
ever be.  
-Echo Albarn, blatantly Self-Inserting and not editing in July   
of 2000.  
  
====================  
  
"Delusions of Grandeur" (C) 2000: Mirror in the Dark Productions.  
  
==================== 


	2. 3am & Really Hyped Up

I swore to all that's holy that I wouldn't write a sequel.  
  
I lied.  
  
And, btw, when something's written all in caps, it's   
song lyrics.  
  
******************************  
  
MIRROR IN THE DARK PRODUCTIONS PRESENTS  
DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR (a work of pokemon non-fan-fiction)  
DREAM 0:2  
  
******************************  
  
The sky was dark, but a warm wind blew across the dusty   
playground. Candles formed a circle in the midst of the equipment,   
threw their flickering light against cold steel and black pavement.   
In a near-parody of the professional league that frowned on its   
existence, music cued up from a car parked nearby. Stepping from the   
shadows was a shadow himself, dressed in black, with only his pale   
face exposed. Tossing his long black mane, he called out over the   
industrial poundings of his 'theme', "Who dares challenge me, the   
darkness, the source, the champion of this arena?"  
  
The industrial thrash cut off, and was replaced  
by the classical rock of "Epitaph".  
  
From the opposite end of the circle stepped the opponent.   
Dressed in khakis and a battered league jacket, the newcomer stepped   
trough the circle of spectators and completed the ritual.  
  
"Champion of Pallet Elementary, my name is Josh Ransom, and I   
challenge you by Backalley League rules for your title."  
  
The crowd gasped. Josh Ransom? It couldn't be. The former league   
champion, reduced to pitfights?  
  
The goth looked slightly nervous, but he smiled evilly and   
sneered, "My name is Plysophath, imposter. I accept your challenge. The   
match will be held two..." He raised one hand, with fingers V-ed, to   
illustrate. "...to two." He raised his other hand. Josh nodded. Two   
pokemon per trainer. He could handle it.  
  
Sliding through a regal bow, Plysopath withdrew a black sphere   
from his flowing coat. At least that's what he must have done, as no one   
could see well enough with only candles.   
  
"Gengar, go!"  
  
The champion tossed his pokeball into the center of the circle of   
flame, where it popped open and released the ghost.  
  
Josh nodded, once.  
  
He removed a standard league pokeball from his coat, and tossed   
it into the ring, with two words that electrified the crowd.  
  
"Jackie, go."  
  
Jackie the Hitmonchan! It couldn't possibly be the same Jackie   
that Ransom used to win the championship! The crowd was really interested   
now, and Plysophath was looking rather uneasy. This was not a pokemon   
that one would tangle with if you were a smart trainer, like Plysophath   
thought he was.  
  
As the pokeball landed with a plasticky sound in the ring, A   
gnomish humanoid creature emerged from it.   
  
"Hit...mon...chan."  
  
It took a moment to glide through a brief kata, then lowered its   
gloves to an opening stance.  
  
Plysophath, staring with open contempt at his challenger, waited   
a moment. Then, as the guy in the car cranked up his trance CD, The   
goth made his move.  
  
"Gengar! Spirit Wither!"  
  
"Garrr..."  
  
The ghost half-stepped, half-glided forward, and opened its mouth   
to breathe a cold, evil wind at the martial arts pokemon.  
  
"Cha-*hack*-*hack*-*cough*-nnnn..."  
  
It fell over backwards, but only for a moment.  
  
As it jumped to its feet, Josh called out, "Weave and Unravel!"   
and Hitmonchan rushed to comply.  
  
Gathering spiritual energy about his gloves, Jackie bobbed and   
ducked, ending up right in Gengar's face. There, he let loose with a   
flurry of punches, each one charged with ki that sliced straight through   
the ghost. With a cry of pain, it fell down.  
  
In one sigh, Plysophath described all the pain and suffering he   
felt. "Gengar, return."  
  
The call of the pokeball was inevitable.  
  
And here's where things got *really* icky.  
  
A cold wind sprang up about the competitors as an illuminated circle   
flared to life about Plysophath.  
  
He began screaming, "BENATIR! CARARKAU! DEDOS! YOG-SOTHOTH! Come   
forth! Come forth! I speak the Words, I break Thy Bonds, the Seal is   
cast aside, pass through the Gate and enter the World I maketh Thy   
mighty Sign!"  
  
A shadow swept 'round our good buddy Plyso and coalesced in his   
palm into the unholy form of...a pokeball. A regular old pokeball, not   
even painted black.  
  
Josh began to sweat. He had seen better summoning tricks, but   
something about this one just screamed 'YOU ARE SO DEAD'.  
  
An unholy light to his dark-contacted eyes, Plysophath tossed   
the ball into the ring of candles. "Yog-Sothoth, COME FORTH!" he   
screamed, foam flecking his cheeks.  
  
The ball opened, and...something...came out.  
  
It wasn't exactly formless, more like...ectoplasm brought back   
to life. Living shadows, cast in a mind-rending form that pulsated   
sickly in the dim light.  
  
Josh was not a happy camper.  
  
Jackie stretched and said nothing.  
  
Like a winter wind, the phonemes, "Yog.....Yog-Sothoth..." floated   
across the battlefield and cut to the bone.  
  
Josh inhaled deeply for a moment, remembering the words to a song.  
  
THE WALL ON WHICH THE PROPHETS WROTE IS CRACKING AT THE SEAMS  
  
"Jackie. Dragoon."  
The little pokemon immediately jumped straight up, out of sight.  
  
UPON THE INSTRUMENTS OF DEATH THE SUNLIGHT BRIGHTLY GLEAMS  
  
Plysophath's voice was cold, hollow.  
"Yog-Sothoth. Kill."  
  
WHEN EVERY MAN IS TORN APART WITH NIGHTMARES AND WITH DREAMS  
  
The tendrils of darkness snaked out, lashing towards Ransom. With   
a yelp of fear, he fell backwards, onto the cold ground. Spectators   
scattered by the dozen, most to run from the scene in fear, many to   
get a safer view twenty or so feet back.  
  
WILL NO ONE LAY THE LAUREL WREATH AS SILENCE DROWNS THE SCREAMS?  
  
Josh had barely time to blink before Yog-Sothoth noticed the   
fleeing spectators, and immolated them all with a gesture. The screams   
of the dying filled the schoolyard air.  
  
CONFUSION WILL BE MY EPITAPH  
  
Josh once more became the attention of the creature from Outside,   
as it moved to sink itself into Josh, devoring him, form and spirit.  
  
AS I CRAWL A CRACKED AND BROKEN PATH  
  
Then a slight whistling was heard across the battlefield. A pokemon   
came flying out of the sky, red gloves blazing with holy light, driving   
straight down, directly through Yog-Sothoth.  
  
IF WE MAKE IT WE CAN ALL SIT BACK AND LAUGH  
  
"Chan," he said, with a self-satisfied grin on his face.  
  
Yog-Sothoth was halted in its attack, but it was nowhere near done.   
It turned round, hunger written across its near-illegible features.   
Frantically, Plysophath made the Ancient Sign of Koth to seal the   
Gate and return Yog-Sothoth to his dread Masters, but the fates would   
have none of that, and they did this night give Plysophath the big   
middle finger.  
  
BUT I FEAR TOMORROW I'LL BE CRYING  
  
As Yog-Sothoth finished with the cruel and unusual execution of   
Plysophath, it turned back towards Josh.  
  
There was complete silence over the entire area, except in the   
halls of Josh Ransom's mind.  
  
Ringing through his synapses were the words, "Another time,   
human."  
  
In pain, Josh gripped his head with his hands.  
  
Yog-Sothoth vanished.  
  
YES I FEAR TOMORROW I'LL BE CRYING  
  
Josh, shaking a bit in shock, picked up a cell phone from where   
someone had dropped it, and dialed a number.  
  
"Pokemon League Headquarters, this is Rose, how may   
I help you?"  
  
"Rose, gimme Ash. We've got...a problem."  
  
******************************  
  
Nyah.   
There ya go.   
A Darker-toned fic, not the first,   
but somthing interesting, I figure. And yes,  
I will be writing another tale to finish this   
one off.  
And...the Lyrics used in this bit were written by divers members  
of King Crimson in 1969. (C) E'G Records...  
Pokemon and all stuff associated with it is (C) Nintendo, 4Kids,  
Gamefreak, and other associated members of the new media conspiracy.  
  
******************************  
  
"delusions of grandeur- dream 0:2", (C) 2000, Mirror in the Dark Productions  
  
****************************** 


End file.
